Forgiveness Vespers

Tonight, the eve of Great Lent, we and all other Orthodox churches around the world observed Forgiveness Vespers. Here's the liturgy for tonight's service. Notice this at the end:

THE DISMISSAL

PRIEST: May Christ our true God, through the intercessions of his all-immaculate and all-blameless holy Mother; by the protection of the honorable bodiless powers of heaven; of N. (patron saint of the church); of the holy and righteous ancestors of God, Joachim and Anna; of N. (the saint of the day)whose memory we celebrate, and of all the saints: have mercy on us, and save us, forasmuch as he is good and loveth mankind.

(As the choir very slowly and quietly sings the Paschal Canon, the exchange of mutual forgiveness may now take place, beginning with the clergy. The priest stands next to the analogion as the faithful venerate the icon of the Theotokos. One by one the faithful bow before the priest, who also does the same before each of the faithful, each saying to one another, “Forgive me, a sinner.” The faithful then receive his blessing and kiss his hand. The faithful also ask forgiveness from each other, exchanging among themselves the kiss of peace.

When everyone has completed the exchange of mutual forgiveness the priest, facing the icon of Christ on the iconostasis, says,)

Through the prayers of our holy fathers, Lord Jesus Christ our God, have mercy on us and save us.

Did you get that? Every single person in the congregation personally asks for forgiveness from every other person in the congregation. I've never witnessed or participated in this. Even though this will be my second Great Lent as an Orthodox Christian, I was sick last year at Forgiveness Vespers. I'd heard that this ceremony is quite moving, but nothing quite prepared me for what happened at the end of the formal prayer. Archbishop Dmitri stood before the gathered congregation and told us that he had failed us in this past year, and listed the things he had done and the things he had left undone. And bowing down as much as he was able (he's 84), he asked our forgiveness. The entire congregation fell to its knees, prostrated its collective head to the floor, and forgave him.

Thus began one of the most remarkable rituals I've ever seen, much less been a part of. We all went around the church, in circular receiving lines, asking forgiveness of each other. The way it worked was like this: two congregants stand facing each other. Then both make the sign of the cross, fall to their knees, bow humbly to each other, touching their heads to the floor, then stand. Each one says, "Forgive me, brother (or sister)." Then they embrace, kiss each other three times on the cheek, and say to each other, "God forgives you, I forgive you," or some slight variation on that.

Imagine doing that over 100 times. With every single person in church. The ones you love. The ones you know you should love. The ones who have hurt or offended you. The ones you've not befriended. The ones you've done wrong in some way. Every single man, woman and child. It's astonishing to watch a priest fall to the ground and ask a little girl to forgive him. To see mothers and fathers fall down in front of their children and ask for (and offer) forgiveness.

But it happened tonight.

And something else happened too. Our little Nora, who is 16 months old, stood patiently behind Julie for the last part of the service, watching Julie prostrate herself in front of others, and receive a prostration as well. Near the very end, Nora came around, plopped down on the floor in front of Irina, bent forward, touched her head to the floor, then looked up. Tears jumped to all of our eyes.

I am stiff, sore, sweaty and exhausted. But that was good. I see now why Orthodox so love this service. I think if Christians from other traditions knew more about it, and could see what it does to and for a congregation, they would adapt it to their use. It's very hard to see your fellow congregants as strangers after going through something like this. And having to fall on your knees and humble yourself in front of your brothers and sisters in Christ is powerful stuff. Like a church friend said to me as we were leaving this evening, "That is not an empty ritual."

And so, on to Great Lent...